


By Ginger and Lovage

by TheMarvelousMadMadamMim



Series: This Spell We Cast [14]
Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Ada reads some hardcore romance and sometimes Hecate gets shocked, BDSM, Day 26, F/F, POTENTIAL TRIGGER: CLAUSTROPHOBIA, TWW Valentines LemonFest 2019, Vacuum Beds, a very different sort of lemon, i done told y'all this, learning new things together, let's have healthy conversations about what we need and want to feel emotionally fulfilled, let's talk about sex, my kink is healthy supportive relationships, sensory deprivation play, workshop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-07 04:29:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17953610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMarvelousMadMadamMim/pseuds/TheMarvelousMadMadamMim
Summary: A scene in one of Ada's romance novels inspires Hecate to learn something new.For TWW Valentine Lemon!Fest.Day Twenty Six Prompt: Workshop.Day Twenty One Prompt: Kink.





	By Ginger and Lovage

**Author's Note:**

> Interested in learning more? Come visit me on tumblr @marvellouslymadmim and find the ingredient index for this story (you can search #this spell we cast series: ingredient index or #by ginger and lovage, fyi). The post will include links to the videos and training that inspired this piece in particular.  
> Now go enjoy your smut.

Whatever Ada was reading, it was definitely intriguing her. Hecate found herself glancing up from her own reading more and more, amusement growing as she watched Ada become more and more engrossed—the book was moving closer and closer to her face, her eyebrows rising higher and higher, the unmistakable blush tinging her cheeks and chest more and more.

Finally Hecate’s curiosity was too great. She shifted closer, gently resting her head on Ada’s shoulder. She kept her own book at a manageable angle, so that she could at least read it if she wanted to. Her eyes surreptitiously traveled down the page of Ada’s novel, trying to guess which part she was reading

Oh. _Oh_.

Now it was Hecate’s turn to stare wide-eyed at the page before her, eyebrows lifting in surprise. She felt a small wash of wonderment and confusion, because this wasn’t something Ada had really expressed interest in before, at all.

But half an hour later, when she dove into the warmth of Ada’s thighs, she quite literally came face to face with just how much the idea had affected the blonde.

Which meant there really was only one option, at that point.

* * *

 “So,” Hecate said the next night, gaze still focused on the stack of essays in her lap. “Page 57.”

Ada paused her own reading, glancing over in confusion.

“Of your book,” Hecate clarified, still keenly invested in her own task. She waited until Ada flipped back to the page in question before quietly asking, “That is something that…interests you?”

Now she looked up, face impossibly neutral as she locked eyes with Ada. The blonde felt her cheeks flush. Of course Hecate had noticed. She always noticed those kinds of things. Ada pushed herself to swallow the tightness in her throat and answer, “Well, yes—I guess, I—yes.”

Hecate blinked, once. Her expression was still impossible to read. “And in this situation, you are the…giver or—”

“Receiver,” Ada rushed, aware of Hecate’s growing discomfort. While her lover had proven herself far from prudish in their sex life, Hecate still wasn’t the best at verbally discussing it. But here she was, trying to have this conversation, and Ada would try with her.

Hecate gave a small, curt nod. Ada thought the tightness around her eyes eased, just a bit. She waited, giving Hecate a moment to formulate her next question, a small frisson of love blooming in her chest at how Hecate soldiered on, how she was genuinely curious and open to discussing anything Ada wanted, no matter what.

“And what precisely is the….” Hecate trailed off, her brain whirring as it searched for the right word ( _purpose_ didn’t fit, because that was a bit obvious, _appeal_ made it sound as if she found it unappealing and was therefore judging Ada). Finally, she found an acceptable turn of phrase, “The _need_ being fulfilled by this particular scenario?”

Ada felt another measure of relief. Yes, this was her Hecate—searching for answers, searching to understand her on every level, never making her feel anything less than valid and seen.

She frowned slightly as she considered the question, determined to give a full and thoughtful answer. “Well…I guess at first blush, it’s about control. Or lack thereof.”

“Like with the handcuffs,” Hecate gave a curt nod of understanding. Ada flushed slightly at the memories.

“Yes, but in that situation, there’s still an ability to have…input. To still be part of the action, in some way,” Ada frowned, feeling she was surely not making sense at this point.

Hecate watched her for a long beat before quietly summarizing, “So you wish to be… _objectified_ , in the most literal sense.”

Ada nodded quickly, realizing that her lover had found the answer she’d been looking for. “Yes. It’s the absolute lack of control that seems rather lovely. To not have to…make a decision, or have any real responsibility at all in that moment.”

The lines around Hecate’s dark eyes softened into something sadder. Ada knew that Hecate had understood the unspoken part of her confession: as headmistress, every second of every day was filled with the responsibility of keeping an entire school full of students and staff safe. Every action was filled with a decision of some sort, an ability to forever impact the world around her in deep and lasting ways, often without even realizing it. Sometimes that was a wonderful thing. Sometimes it was not. And sometimes, she just wished it wasn’t a thing she had to worry about at all.

Hecate merely looked at her, fully and deeply for a beat, and then gave a simple nod.

“Right,” was all she said, and she returned to her essay grading. By now, Ada had grown used to the way Hecate ended conversations like this—this wasn’t the first time they’d explored a fantasy, and once Hecate had gathered what she considered as all the relevant information, she felt that the conversation was no longer necessary. She may not bring it up again for days or even weeks, but when she came back to it, she would have a solution. One that was usually quite wonderful, in Ada’s opinion. The discussion wasn't over, just bookmarked until later.

Ada couldn’t help but smile when later that evening, Hecate produced a set of handcuffs and a blindfold, expressive eyebrow arching in unspoken question. She wasn’t ready to commit to the other scenario yet, but she could give Ada as much as she was able, in that moment.

And Ada loved her all the more for it.

* * *

 Two nights later, as they sat side by side in bed again, Hecate announced, “I think I have it.”

“Hmm?” Once again, Ada was engrossed in her book. She glanced over at her deputy, who was reading some article on her maglet.

Hecate shifted, angling her upper body to face Ada, mouth pressed into a slight line of worry.

“I can’t—Ada, I just can’t… _demean_ you. It’s not…I love you, but I can’t bring myself to do it,” Hecate’s face was still heavy with worry, as if she feared breaking her lover’s heart. Ada merely nodded, knowing that this was always going to be the main issue Hecate had with this particular fantasy. Eyebrows lilting in anxious uncertainty, Hecate asked, “Is that…an important factor in this scenario?”

“Not at all,” Ada assured her. “And I would never want you to do something that wasn’t equally enjoyable for you. I hope you know that, by now.”

She felt her skin flush as she continued, “I thought some more, about your question—about what need was being fulfilled. And I have to admit there’s also an element of knowing…knowing that you’re doing exactly what you want with me. It's a bit—well, _more_ than a bit—of a turn on, knowing you’re getting exactly what you want and need, too.”

Hecate’s cheeks simmered in response. She took a beat to simply watch Ada with those dark eyes, then, with a slight smile, she glanced down at her maglet. “Then I think this is our solution.”

She handed the maglet to Ada. As the blonde scrolled through the photos accompanying the article, Hecate softly added, “I could objectify you, if it meant celebrating your beauty and your…desirability.”

Ada felt her entire body tighten at the thought. She continued looking at the photos, her happiness growing. Hecate loved her, so very deeply. She had known this for a quite awhile, but it was nice to be reminded.

“Yes,” she grinned. “I think this is the perfect solution.”

“Right,” Hecate leaned forward, giving her a peck on the cheek. “I can book a workshop with Myrtle Maplewood in three weeks’ time. Consider it a slightly early birthday present.”

* * *

 By now, Ada had come to admit that she was, in general, thoroughly entranced by any expression on Hecate Hardbroom’s face. But there was always something particularly enjoyable about watching Hecate as she processed something new. The corners of her mouth always turned down in concentration, her expressive brows knitting and kneading and lifting with each new piece of information, as if they were physically responsible for filing away the details, the small sounds she made to convey understanding, the slight nods of agreement and self-satisfaction when she completed a step—Ada found it hard to concentrate on the lesson herself, with such a distracting symphony across from her.

It was rather fortunate that for the most part, she didn’t need to learn the dynamics herself—not for practical use, anyways. While Hecate had been eager to fulfill this desire for Ada, she’d been clear in indicating that she didn’t wish the same in return. Not that it had surprised Ada—their emotional needs during sex were generally very different (though still quite complementary, Ada thought), so it made perfect sense that their desires were different as well.

She couldn’t even attempt to tamp down the bubbly sense of adoration that she’d felt all evening. Hecate dedicated so much time and effort to researching the practice beforehand, determined to give Ada anything she needed and wanted, without her ever having to ask at all. And here they were, kneeling on the floor of a small side room in Myrtle Maplewood’s Sexhibition Studio, a large swath of clear latex between them as Myrtle taught Hecate how to build a vacuum bed.

Hecate could feel Ada’s gaze on her, but she found it easier than usual to push aside the reactions it inspired—this was important, and she couldn’t miss a detail. Myrtle Maplewood had been nothing like her rather tame name had implied. In fact, Hecate had been a bit hesitant to be taught a skill by someone who was half her age and had more facial piercings than Hecate had thought possible. But the younger woman so far had proven to be adept at her work and explained things quickly, concisely, and easily (three important points, in Hecate’s book). The whole process was far less daunting than she’d imagined.

“Now, you try,” Myrtle motioned to the disassembled frame. “Remember, no magical shortcuts—do this by hand, so you can truly feel and know that it’s done properly.”

Hecate nodded, taking up the pieces of pipe and fitting them together. With a matter of seconds, she had reconstructed the rectangle of PVC pipe, pressing each piece firmly into place to ensure sealing and suction. She lightly placed it back onto the large latex bag, which was unzipped and fully opened. She gave a quick glance to Ada, still making sure the blonde didn’t show any signs of hesitation or apprehension. Myrtle had already gone over a list of questions with Ada, ensuring she didn't suffer from claustrophobia or a latex allergy, and highlighting potential reactions Ada may have to the experience. So far, nothing had deterred the blonde from continuing. Not for the first time, Hecate felt a swell of admiration for her lover's bravery.

When she’d read the scene in Ada’s novel, she’d first been horrified at the thought of vacuum sealing someone into latex, leaving them utterly helpless—it sounded like something from the Inquisition, not an act of pleasure. But as she delved into her research, she’d learned more about sensory deprivation play and how it heightened sensation. She was already well-aware of how easily Ada responded to her touch, but the thought of intensifying that response had certainly been appealing. The fact that Ada could trust her, so wholly and completely, to give herself entirely into Hecate’s hands this way only filled Hecate with an overwhelming desire to let Ada do just that.

She could learn this. She could give this to Ada, in return for this awesome gift of unbridled trust and faith.

“Perfect,” Myrtle decreed. Her neon green nails tapped on a section of pipe. “Now, make sure the nozzle goes through this little opening here, and then we attach the vacuum, remember?”

Hecate nodded again, easily recreating the movements Myrtle had shown her. The younger woman gave a small noise of approval, the little silver bells attached to her dreadlocks tinkling as well.

“Alright, so now I’m gonna have our vision in pink step in,” Myrtle turned slightly, motioning to Ada. “And then we’re gonna give it a quick test run.”

Hecate swallowed the lump of apprehension in her throat, nodding quickly as her fingers splayed and gripped against her knees. She looked up at Ada again, who was gingerly slipping out of her robe. She’d kept her undergarments on, at Myrtle’s suggestion—the instructor had stressed that Ada should wear or not wear whatever made her feel comfortable. Ada smiled down at Hecate, a small, quick thing of reassurance. Hecate felt slightly calmer.

“Glasses off,” Myrtle reminded her. Hecate held out her hand and Ada placed the spectacles in her waiting palm.

Once Ada was lying in the center of the latex, Myrtle instructed Hecate to zip up the sides, and showed her how to place the bag’s only opening over Ada’s mouth so that she could breath. They went over nonverbal safe words, as Myrtle explained that the noise of the vacuum made it harder for voices to be heard, and Ada gave a wiggle of her tongue to test the safe sign.

Myrtle sat back slightly, motioning to the vacuum pump. “The only thing left to do is flip the switch, honey bun.”

By now Hecate was accustomed to Myrtle’s penchant for pet names. When the instructor has first pulled out the sobriquets, Hecate had thought she was flirting and had felt a small rush of anger that the woman would be so disrespectful to Ada, but she quickly realized the woman apparently assigned pet names to everyone, and her sense of Ada’s honor was restored (it didn’t hurt that she had called Ada _my_ _divine little darling_ , more than once, which Hecate had to admit was a rather perfect moniker).

Hecate gingerly reached forward, jumping slightly at how loudly the vacuum whirred to life. Within seconds, the clear latex seemed to melt, sealing to outline Ada’s body.

She looked like a doll, Hecate thought. Some manufactured version of herself.

“Alright, switch it off,” Myrtle’s voice rose to be heard over the vacuum. Hecate complied and the bag slowly began to expand again.

Myrtle unzipped the top half of the bag and pulled back the flap to reveal a beaming Ada. “Good, yeah?”

“It was—yes, great,” Ada was giddy, overcome by the sudden sensation and still not sure how to explain it.

Myrtle was grinning in understanding. “Awesomeness. So this first round, we’ll keep it to ten minutes.”

Now she looked back at Hecate, “I’m going to leave the room, but you can summon me at any time if you have questions or feel overwhelmed.”

Hecate nodded, trying to tear her gaze away from Ada’s glowing expression long enough to make eye contact with Myrtle.

“Alright, my lovely ladies,” Myrtle clapped her hands and several baskets of flowers appeared. “Enjoy. See you on the other side.”

She transferred away and the room filled with a beat of silence as Hecate simply watched Ada.

“How does it feel?” She asked, finally.

“Amazing,” Ada admitted. “Your whole body just compresses and it feels—oh, I've never felt anything like it!”

She gave a small giggle at the thought, and Hecate’s mouth hitched at the sound.

“Good,” the brunette spoke in a low tone, pleased at how pleased Ada seemed.

“Ready?” Ada raised an eyebrow.

“Ready,” Hecate gave a single nod. She reached up to slowly finish unzipping the bag, uncovering the rest of Ada’s body.

Most of the vacuum bag scenarios she’d researched had an air of degradation to them. Making the submissive partner inanimate and completely powerless, using them entirely for the will and pleasure of their dom. Most of the bags themselves were black, completely obscuring the features of the person inside. Hecate had been filled with queasy dread, fearing that the day had finally arrived—the moment she had truly feared for so long, the moment in which she would finally prove herself unable to give Ada everything she wanted and needed, finally prove that she wasn’t enough.

And then she had found Myrtle’s website. The Sexhibition Studio used vacuum beds, but the photos were beautiful—the subs were in clear latex, still recognizable, decorated with flowers and sealed in to create breathtaking visuals. Obviously crafted with love and care. Hecate realized she could make Ada inanimate, if it came from a place of adoration rather than subjugation. Ada often instilled a worshipful sense of wonder in her, and to be able to truly act on that was an extremely appealing idea. She could take away Ada’s control and power, if in return she got to spend the time adoring her.

And when Ada had reacted to her suggestion with absolute delight, when she had assured Hecate that she was after sensation and full lack of control, not degradation and humiliation, then Hecate had moved forward with relief and determination. Yes, she could still give Ada what she wanted, what she needed. And perhaps she could find something she needed in it as well.

With a flutter of her fingers, Ada removed the last of her clothing. Hecate smiled in response, lightly tracing her fingers across Ada’s ankle.

She crawled forward, looming over Ada for a moment before leaning further in for a simple, sweet kiss. With a whisper, she promised, “See you on the other side.”

Ada gave a barely perceptible nod and closed her eyes. When the session had begun, Myrtle had suggested that from the moment decoration began, all conversation should end, with exceptions being made for confirmations, such as when to begin the vacuum and ensuring the sub was safe and ready.

Hecate noticed her hands were shaking as she reached for the first basket of flowers. It had been a long time since she’d felt this level of nerves, when it came to approaching Ada intimately. She gave a small smile as she thought back to their first time together, the anxiety warring with desire and the nerves heightening every sensation. Heat simmered through her hips.

She found two delicate daisies for Ada’s nipples, two dramatic pink and white stargazer lilies to place in between her thighs. She wove trails of ivy from Ada’s hips to her shoulders, around her arms and legs, trying to imagine how the leaves would flatten again her skin, what they would cover. Impossibly tiny violets were placed on Ada’s chest, recreating Hecate’s favorite collection of freckles. Waves of meadowsweet were at Ada’s feet—Hecate decided they would look like the seafoam, as if Ada were Venus herself re-emerging. A few single petals of a blush pink rose, here and there, with larger flat leaves placed around Ada’s head like a sunburst crown, finished off with thick clusters of marshmallow blossoms, their centers Ada’s favorite shade of purple. Hecate sat back on her heels and surveyed her work.

Ada was still so obviously delighted from the first test. Her chest was blushing and her cheeks seemed to glow. She was utterly serene. A goddess, Hecate mused.

“Alright,” she kept her voice low, not wishing to break the spell these quiet moments had created. “I’m zipping you up.”

Ada gave a small hum of confirmation, and Hecate closed the bag, careful not to mess up the flowers. She arranged the opening over Ada’s mouth again, taking a deep breath before saying, “Turning on in three…two…one.”

She flipped the switch, and the vacuum whirred to life. The bag seemed to melt again, leaving the outline of Ada and the flowers in perfect detail.

“Oh, Ada.” She knew the blonde couldn’t hear her wondered whisper over the vacuum, and somehow that was freeing. She could express her love for what she saw without having to worry about sounding too daft, too ridiculous, too much. By now, she knew that Ada would never think such things, but sometimes Hecate still hesitated.

And oh, how deeply Hecate loved what she saw. The flowers were practically melded to Ada’s skin now, and her body seemed far too perfect to be real. She truly looked like something carved from some precious substance, some statue of a goddess long forgotten but deeply revered. Hecate’s palms ached to touch, but she held back, almost fearing it would be profane to mar such beauty with her imperfect hands.

Still, Hecate found herself shifting closer, eager to take in every detail, every nuance. The little violets had strayed slightly, but they still looked beautiful against Ada’s flushed skin. Hecate finally summoned the courage to touch them, lightly brushing over them as if reading braille. She saw the twitch of Ada’s mouth, felt the shift in Ada’s body and knew that even though she couldn’t hear it over the vacuum, Ada had made a little noise of desire. Her veins filled with another surge of wonder.

She hadn’t considered that there would still be a way to gauge Ada’s reaction, even if the woman couldn’t particularly verbalize it. Somehow, in all of this, she hadn’t fully remembered that Ada would still be here, with her. Her body lit up with delight at the realization.

Teasing Ada was one of her favorite pastimes. And now Ada had no way to retaliate. Hecate bit her bottom lip as she considered the implications.

 _Oh, Ada. I really should buy you more romance novels._ Hecate decided. They had brought so much to Ada and Hecate’s life—this being a prime example.

Hecate added more pressure to her fingers, slipping up to trace the extremely well-defined line of Ada’s collarbone. The feel of the latex was exotic and delightful. She saw Ada’s mouth twitch in response again and her grin deepened. She pressed the pads of her fingers deeper, pushing up to trace the outline of Ada’s face, stroking down the side of Ada’s neck again.

Her hand went further down, enchanted by how different Ada’s breasts felt, encased in latex and more tightly compressed. While she adored Ada’s body exactly as it was, this new firmness made Hecate imagine what Ada’s breasts would have been like, if they had been together sooner, before time shifted both of their bodies. These versions weren’t nearly as biteable, but they felt rather wonderful, nonetheless. Hecate pressed harder, digging her fingers into the flesh. Ada shifted slightly in response (probably as much as she could, given the tightness of the bag), and Hecate felt another hum of delight zipping through her lungs.

 _Oh, Ada. I promised to keep you safe, but I never said I would keep you sane_. She was going to drive this woman wild, she knew with sudden clarity. There was a mischievous thrill, knowing that she couldn’t be derailed by Ada’s own retaliations, this time.

She let her fingers trill down Ada’s sides, coming back up to follow the path of the ivy. She had to remind herself to look up again, to make sure Ada’s mouth still seemed set in delight rather than distress—it was easy to lose herself in the deliciousness of the rest of Ada’s body, made new by this experience.

Once again, she thought of undressing Ada for the first time. Seeing the freckles she could outline blindfolded now. Learning the color of Ada’s nipples, currently covered in daisies. Tracing the warmth of Ada’s thighs for the first time with her tongue. Taking in Ada’s scent for the first time, hearing her moan and whimper, making sounds more delicious than anything Hecate could have imagined before.

Hecate’s own thighs were tensing at the recollections, her breath becoming shakier as her body responded much like it did when those memories were being made. She forced herself to keep going, to make long, open palmed strokes down Ada’s body, wondering if the warmth from her hands was penetrating the latex enough to truly be felt.

The vacuum was so loud, it made the rest of the world disappear. She traced the outline of Ada’s foot, fingers curling back into curve around the arch (oh how she loved those feet, loved making them flex and point as the rest of Ada’s body shook with need and want) before glancing back up to check Ada’s response.

Even with the seal of the bag, Hecate could see how relaxed Ada’s body was. Myrtle had told them that the sensation often put people in a meditative trance—it seemed that Ada had reached that point.

How Hecate ached at the sight of her, at all the memories this experience had recalled.

 _Knowing that you’re doing exactly what you want with me…it’s more than a bit of a turn-on._ Ada’s words echoed in her mind, and she felt another sharp tug of desire. Oh, the things she wanted to do with Ada. The things she wanted Ada to make her feel (the things Ada already made her feel).

Before she could even really think about it, she vanished her dress. She crawled forward, back to Ada’s hips, her stomach flipping in delight at the thought that Ada truly had no idea what was coming.

* * *

The hum of the vacuum, along with the latex over her ears, made Ada feel completely isolated. During the test, she had only processed the sensation of being compressed, not the sense of isolation. It wasn’t unpleasant, but certainly different. She concentrated on taking easy, steady breaths through her lips, letting her body find a relaxed rhythm again. There was no way to anticipate what came next—no way to see what Hecate was doing, no way to hear her moving, nothing to give warning at all. The reality of just how deprived of control she was truly sank in.

With a flutter of joy, she realized that she never would have done this with anyone but Hecate. There was something wonderful in knowing this, in knowing that they shared a trust so full and so deep.

Time seemed to stretch and she briefly wondered if Hecate was still there.

Then she felt a brush on her chest. The lightest touch of Hecate’s fingertips. Her body flushed and surged at the contact, both from the heightened sensation and the reassurance that Hecate was here, with her, as always.

The trilling touches rippled and danced across her skin, too much and not enough—and when Hecate’s hands gripped her breasts, she thought her lungs might explode from the sudden change in pressure. After that Hecate’s touches had found balance, not too light but not too heavy, almost soothing in their stroking movements.

She marveled at how, even through the latex and the haze of sensations, Hecate’s hands telegraphed love and reverence and reassurance. Yes, Ada had expected to feel many things, but she hadn’t truly anticipated feeling so… _cherished_.

There was something so utterly overwhelming in knowing that when given free reign over Ada’s body, Hecate’s innate desire was to adore her. Not to dominate with cruelty or force, but with heavy weighted adoration. Not that she had ever doubted Hecate’s respect for her, but they had never been in a situation that had so clearly highlighted this aspect of her character.

Oh, how she loved this woman.

Ad how she couldn’t wait to tell all this to Hecate. The thought of having to wait only made her body surge with an even stronger desire. Oh, Hecate, Hecate, Hecate—how she adored this woman, this fearless thing who never said no, not when it came to giving Ada a new experience, not when it came to exploring every corner of their sexuality, not when it came to expressing their love and desire.

Her body felt as if it were melting, muscles seeping with a heavy sleepy sense of relaxation under the tender ministrations of Hecate’s hands. Briefly Ada mused that this might be a perfect cure for the nights she couldn’t sleep, but her brain was becoming lazy and loopy, too, drifting from sensation to sensation.

She could feel the shift, even before Hecate’s hips full settled onto the tops of her thighs, the weight and warmth of Hecate’s body shocking her back into a moment of heightened sensation rather than mindless meditation. Hecate seemed to wait, and it took Ada a moment to realize that while Hecate was fully aware that the entire point of this exercise was to relieve Ada of any input or decision-making whatsoever, Hecate was still watching her for any sign of distress. The blonde felt another surge of adoration for her lover, for all the careful attentions she gave.

Then she felt the weight of Hecate’s hands on her breasts again, the grip of Hecate’s thighs around her own. All the air left Ada’s lungs as her body surged with fire. Her thighs, already so tightly pressed together, clenched in their confinement, the heat pooling between them almost unbearable.

Hecate rolled her hips, and Ada’s skin burned with the need to feel the heat and the wetness that she knew was pressing into her, kept so far away by the layer of latex. Hecate pushed into her again and Ada’s brain shuttered with white sparks. Hecate’s left hand slipped down to anchor on Ada’s hip and the right hand’s weight disappeared completely. Ada felt the small, heavy shifts of Hecate’s body and she realized with another rush of desire that Hecate was touching herself, lifting and moving to the press of her own hand. Oh, Ada’s body trembled and ached at the thought of being unable to touch Hecate herself, of the delicious sight being currently denied to her, of the sounds she couldn’t hear—it was exquisite torture. She remembered Hecate’s hesitancy in pursuing this experience and made a mental note to quip about her lover’s obvious ability to overcome that hesitation quite fully, once this was over.

Hecate’s hips were rocking quickly against her, but not really pushing into Ada anymore—she could feel the strain in Hecate’s thighs, could feel her lifting her hips higher as her movements became faster and more erratic, and oh Ada’s hands ached with a desire to grab those hips and pull them back into her, to push and pull until the woman on top of her shattered completely.

Hecate’s thighs locked against her tightly and Ada felt the spasm ripple through her own body, tight and aching with want. She felt the sudden liquidity in Hecate’s muscles, the way she easily sank back onto Ada’s thighs. Hecate’s hands returned fully to Ada’s body, roaming and stroking with warmer intent. Again, somehow Hecate’s touches telegraphed all the things Ada couldn’t hear or see—Hecate was obviously aware of just how much she had affected Ada, was rather proud of herself, rather smug in Ada’s helplessness. Ada felt a bubbling in her chest as she imagined that adorable expression that Hecate Hardbroom often wore when pleased with herself, the cat who got the cream.

Then Hecate lifted up again—Ada could feel the closeness of her body, could feel how she leaned over Ada, could feel the soft push of Hecate’s breath over her lips, as if she were hovering just over Ada’s mouth.

Ada felt the tentative brush of Hecate’s fingertip on her bottom lip. Slowly shifting upwards, the permission being sought still evident in the lightness of her touch. Ada felt how easily that finger slipped over her lip, felt the added moisture and eagerly opened her mouth wider, taking a breath before Hecate’s fingertip slipped inside completely, the taste of Hecate bursting across her tongue like pure light, dark and familiar.

Ada tested her teeth against the pad of Hecate’s finger, fighting back a whine when it retreated completely. Even with being completely deprived of sight and sound, Ada could still picture the exact smirk and breathless chuckle that Hecate gave in response.

Time became fluid again as Hecate shifted off her body, hands taking up their rhythmic stroking and squeezing, her caresses sending Ada back into a blissful spiral.

And then the world shattered into deafening silence as the vacuum shut off. Air slipped over Ada’s skin again, which suddenly felt hot and clammy. Her ears hummed and her blood pounded against her skin, somehow still feeling slow and golden, like honey.

After a few beats, she felt the bag shifting as Hecate unzipped it. The cool air seeped in against her skin and she felt reborn.

* * *

“Welcome back,” Hecate whispered adoringly, taking in the glowing flush of Ada’s face. She glanced at the clock again, still shocked that it had really only been ten minutes since she had turned on the vacuum. She had been on an absolute journey; she could only assume that Ada felt the same.

Ada merely took a deep breath, mouth curling into a satisfied smile as her eyes remained closed. Hecate gently pulled the flowers away from Ada’s skin, leaving kisses as light as ghosts against each spot. Once they were all gone, she summoned one of the silk sheets from the shelf across the room, starting at Ada’s feet and slowly drawing it over her still-sensitive body.

Her lover hummed at the cool smoothness against her skin.

“Nice?” Hecate guessed.

“Very,” Ada finally spoke. She still hadn’t opened her eyes. Hecate waited and watched her for a long beat, trying to ascertain what, if anything, she needed.

Ada must have sensed her thoughts, because she quietly added, “Will you…lie on top of me?”

Hecate straddled Ada’s hips and let her upper body rest against Ada’s, curling her head into Ada’s neck. Her forehead was pressed against Ada’s pulse point—she could feel the steady beat of Ada’s blood against her skin, and she smiled to think of how her touch must have affected the woman.

After several minutes, Ada’s hands shifted, coming from underneath the sheet to rest on Hecate’s hips, rubbing them in small circles of appreciation.

“You seemed to enjoy yourself,” the blonde spoke up. Hecate could hear the wry grin in her tone.

“Wasn’t that the point?” Hecate countered.

“It was,” Ada agreed warmly.

“And did you? Enjoy yourself?”

“Yes. But it was still a surprising experience.”

“I want to hear all about it.”

“And I want to tell you all about it,” Ada assured her. Hecate was pushing herself up on her hands, looking down at Ada with a smile. Ada reached up, tracing the shell of Hecate’s ear with her fingertips, down the line of her jaw. With a smile, she added, “Thank you.”

“Thank _you_ ,” Hecate returned, with just as much conviction. She took a beat to simply watch Ada before she asked, “Is this something you would want to do again?”

“Yes.” Ada had known that answer, before they’d even finished the first time.

Hecate’s beam in response made Ada’s heart soar.

“Let’s get dressed,” the brunette suggested. “And then I’ll let Miss Maplewood know that we’re buying the bed.”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure she has a policy about buying anything you leave bodily fluids on,” Ada couldn’t help herself.

Hecate gave a short bark of a laugh, shaking her head at the blonde’s retort (though she couldn’t deny it). She slipped off Ada’s hips, sitting up on her knees and gently helping Ada sit up again. The blonde made a twittering sound at the lightheadedness that roiled through her brain.

Hecate reached out to delicately remove a violet she had missed, still pressed into Ada’s skin. With a soft smile, she spoke, “Do you know what I was thinking of…when I was on top of you?”

Ada raised her eyebrows, obviously curious. Hecate’s gaze dipped lower, eyelids fluttering almost bashfully as she admitted, “It reminded me of the first time we had sex. Of seeing your body for the first time. Of how…how it was more than I had ever dreamed it could be. Of how I hadn’t even let myself truly imagine how it could be before, because I couldn’t let myself hope that much, want that much, and when it happened, I…”

Hecate was never really the best with words, she knew. She tried to express herself verbally as often as possible, for Ada’s benefit. But thankfully, Ada understood the things she couldn’t always say, the things she couldn’t quite quantify and label and express.

“I know,” Ada’s hand was warm and reassuring against the curve of Hecate’s neck, her blue eyes brimming with softness and adoration. She pulled Hecate closer, stopping just before their lips touched to whisper again, “I know.”

Hecate let her tongue do the rest of the work, slipping past Ada’s teeth and expressing all the emotions she couldn’t name or speak. When they finally broke away for air, Ada tilted Hecate’s head, letting their foreheads rest together.

“We’ll finish this conversation at home,” she promised, the intent in her words unmistakable. Hecate gave a small shiver of anticipation, and Ada hummed at the action. “For now, I need you to get dressed and tell our lovely instructor that we will definitely be taking the bed.”

Hecate was ready in a flash, offering one last smile over her shoulder as she left the room. Ada was on her feet and dressed again as well, flushed and beaming.

Yes, Hecate decided. She really needed to invest in more romance novels for Ada. After all, learning was fun.


End file.
